


tu es belle

by minerrvas



Series: Kindness Is The New Kink™ [1]
Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: An earlobe has been left unsatisfied in this fanfiction, Foreign languages are a kink now, Nat abandons expensive tea in favour of the Detective, Other, With good seasoning containing angst, a lot of fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 14:17:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15974057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minerrvas/pseuds/minerrvas
Summary: French is the language between lovers. (Set post-B1.)





	tu es belle

Just as on the first day you were here, your feet are leading you toward the library of the new Wayhaven headquarters for Unit Bravo. Ever since Rebecca told you most of the books here belong to Nat, you've been itching to get your hands on some of them. Firstly, because you're curious to find out what books she's interested in; secondly, because you just… want to be around her, even when she's not present.

You've missed her a lot.

Again astounded by the sheer mass of books - and you thought _you_ had many - you're not quite sure where to start. Your eyes close in on a random book. It seems to be something Polish… or Russian?

Your gaze follows the row of books and you recognise titles in many different languages, from Italian to Hebrew and back again. You're impressed - and also a tad jealous. Languages have always come the easiest to you in school and _‘speaking at least three foreign languages fluently’_ is part of your bucket list before you die.

The fact that you're mortal draws closer yet again when you realise that you'll never have enough time to learn everything you want to. Nat doesn't have that problem.

The sensation of your beating heart makes itself clear in that stream of thoughts. You only have limited time. You need to make the best of it.

* * *

A golden spoon is between Nat’s fingers, stirring her tea in a delicate - and expensive - porcelain cup. Her other hand is holding a Portuguese romance book, some light after-breakfast reading. She hasn't been focused on the words on page 79 for about a minute, however.

She heard the Detective come in; Nat can see their shadow, though their body is obstructed from view by a bookshelf.

She has always loved the sight of bookshelves, but this once she's wishing there weren't so many of them in this room.

Suddenly feeling restless, she abandons her tea and book for now, leaving both on the small table, and gets up from her comfortable seat. Taking a few steps into Helena’s direction, Nat discovers they're leafing through one of her books. At closer scrutiny, it's a guide on French for beginners.

 _If they need instructions on how to do French, they just need to ask me…_ she thinks before she can stop her brain. She tries to perish the thought in vain - then Helena is already looking up and at her, pupils widening and corners of their mouth turning up. What a lovely mouth. All rosy and soft, even if their lips have been a bit more cracked lately…

Nat didn't fail to notice the Detective’s reaction to the mention of Murphy during their first debrief here. It's obvious Helena has been very much affected by the incident, especially since they almost died… The guilt and worry can't seem to escape the agent, and while the other’s presence cannot be described as anything but a magical gift, those feelings also worsen when they're around. Because then, Nat is reminded of who she has to lose; how she failed and who she very nearly lost; what her failure has cost the person she… has come to hold very dear.

But she is determined to not burden the Detective with her anxieties. Judging by the rings beneath their eyes, Helena has enough to carry.

“I… I didn't know you were here, too,” said human states. Nat smiles gently, pleased yet again with her ability to fluster them.

“Whenever I have free time, I like to spend it here,” she responds. “And you're here for a French lesson?”

“Not specifically.” Helena grins, and Nat wishes they would know how brightly their eyes sparkle. The light reflecting off their sky blue eyes resembles stars shining during the height of the day. It's a fitting look for them and a fitting metaphor for what they evoke inside her. “I just wanted to explore. Are the language books yours?”

“Most of them,” she answers as she walks up to them. They don't say anything for a few moments, their soft frown indicating they're pondering over something. The book in their hands appears to be forgotten. “What is it, Detective?”

“No, I was just thinking about how you could possibly read the title of this book from so far away and then I remembered—” Helena elaborates, slightly smirking as they raise a naked finger and gaze into Nat’s eyes with wickedness in their own, “superpowers.”

They then return to holding the book with both hands as they simply smile and look at her with fondness.

The fondness is quickly, easily reflected in Nat's features and more relaxation seeps into her posture. She still is beyond grateful Helena didn't reject her - reject the unit - back when they revealed their true species. Instead, they seem to have adapted far better than most humans the team has encountered, even going as far as being excited about the supernatural (of course, with the exception of Murphy and any other creatures who might… desire their blood).

After a short while of merely looking into each other's eyes and observing the way the Detective’s cheeks are flushing red, Helena inquires, “H-How is it? Seeing… _so_ much better, I mean.”

“It's a gift when you want to appreciate beauty,” Nat replies after minimal pause, making it a point to let that part of the sentence hang in the air. Helena's breathing speeds up a little, the faster rhythm obvious to her ears, though she's definitely _more_ aware of the way their chest moves.

However, she focuses on tracing their face with her eyes. It is a rich one, rich with details; with rawness; with humanity.

“And when you're looking for something or focusing. It's a curse when you're just trying to relax and avoid sensory overload.” _Or forget something._

(Like the outer structure of their blood as it oozed out of their neck.

Or how pale exactly their damp skin was as Nat felt them slipping from her in her own arms.

Or the way their lashes intertwined as their eyes fell closed after their last attempt to speak.)

Helena lets out a small but happy laugh at her words, and Nat can't help but be drawn in and laugh in kind.

“Yeah, I get the sensory overload part, and I'm not even a vampire.  But… I do hope that you're finding some beauty to appreciate,” they counter. Sly as they are, they turn their eyes back onto their book with a shy smirk on their lips and a light blush about their cheeks. They start turning page after page.

Nat's smile turns into a smirk of her own. How the Detective manages to be progressively less anxious and more daring around her is very endearing and… exciting to her. Not least, it assuages her that she's _welcome._

Like a wanderer after a long journey home.

“What does ‘you are’ mean in French?” Helena suddenly requests before Nat has time to confirm what they said before.

“Tu es,” she answers smoothly, curious to see where this is going.

They look up from the book, determination etched in their gaze while their lips are pressed together. The agent's eyes flick down to the soft rosy flesh, then back up.

“Tu es belle.” As soon as the words have left Helena's mouth, the strict focus leaves their features and more gentleness returns. Their eyes _open_ to her, allowing her something like a brief glance into the depths of their soul. Nat's grin is nothing but genuine and bright.

“Merci. Only the ‘e’ at the end of ‘belle’ is silent, but you almost pronounced it perfectly,” she adds with pure pride in her voice. Then she gently lays her hand on the side of Helena’s neck. Their breath comes to stroke her skin at an accelerated pace just like her thumb starts to caress theirs.

Nat slowly leans her head forward, her body naturally moving along and almost closing the gap between them. Something in her chest moves violently, but in a pleasant way, when Helena’s eyelids flutter.

Despite what they might think and what she maybe _should_ do considering nobody has interrupted the both of them yet - for once - her mouth goes past Helena's face and near their ear. She can almost feel their creamy skin beneath her lips. She can definitely smell it; their chestnut locks are tickling her nose. They almost make Nat sneeze, but she's _beyond_ grateful centuries of self-control practice are saving this moment from the fate which would have been its destruction.

“Like this,” she whispers and feels her own hot breath at Helena's ear. The temptation to brush her lips against their earlobe is overwhelming. Her thumb finds their pulse - it is frantic. A concoction of their whole being and the intoxicating smell of their blood attacks all of Nat's five senses and probably a sixth one, too. It takes a bit of strength to not recoil or think about… worse.

Her voice trembles when she continues, “Tu es belle.”

**Author's Note:**

> THIS TURNED OUT WAY MORE SEXUAL THAN INTENDED AND THEY DIDN'T EVEN DO SHIT BUT SAY YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL IN FRENCH
> 
> Also Nat's thought of helping the Detective with French definitely refers to French kissing.


End file.
